


Breathe

by pinkstarpirate



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, boys being soft and holding hands, but he has so many issues with relationships and his friendship with hinata means so much, omi really likes shouyou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkstarpirate/pseuds/pinkstarpirate
Summary: A really short fic exploring Sakusa's OCD.Kiyoomi has been trying to improve how he deals with his OCD. He's tried a lot of things, but he has found that meditation and exposure therapy seem to help when added to the rest of his treatment plan. Luckily, he has a friend named Hinata who is pretty much expert on that whole meditation thing, and is willing to literally lend a hand when helping Sakusa try his latest exposure therapy.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cachedoeswrite (obiewolf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obiewolf/gifts).



> I just want to mention that I absolutely *do* know that meditation and exposure therapy are not as easy as it is depicted in this single scene. This scene specifically shows a successful attempt at these two devices/therapies, but I can assure you, this is something Sakusa has to work with constantly to continue improving, because I headcanon that Sakusa struggles a lot with his OCD. He will have his ups and downs and everything in-between, but sometimes, you just have to celebrate a win, no matter how temporary.
> 
> I might continue on with this story as a series, because I absolutely want to explore OmiHina more. It is a cute, supportive ship, and I believe to be tragically underrepresented in fandom. 
> 
> Thanks to cache for giving me the inspiration for this little fic, as she does with so much of my writing!

“I hate this.”

Hinata looks over at him and gives Kiyoomi’s hand a gentle squeeze before loosening his grip ever so slightly, but he doesn’t let go.

Kiyoomi huffs out a very put-upon sigh and then buries his face in his knees, which he had already pulled up to his chest earlier in an attempt to help himself cope, to give him a place to escape to.

“I hate this so much.”

Kiyoomi is very careful to not say, “ _I want to stop,_ ” because honestly, he doesn’t want to stop, and if he says that, Hinata will let go. 

He doesn’t want Hinata to let go. 

And besides, he doesn’t even actually hate holding Hinata’s hand. Kiyoomi likes the idea of connection and is envious when he sees others do it so easily when it is often impossible for him.

“I’m going to do some of my breathing exercises if you want to join me,” Hinata says, voice calm and even.

It does something to Kiyoomi’s heart that Hinata doesn’t demand when giving suggestions. His friend doesn’t say, “ _Omi, do these breathing exercises. They’ll help_!” Because Hinata knows the first thing Kiyoomi’s brain will do is buck against the idea of being ordered around, and it will refuse, even if Kiyoomi understands that these meditative breathing exercises really do help.

“Fine,” Kiyoomi mutters and pulls his forehead away from his knees, dropping his legs down and bringing them into a comfortable position beneath him.

The connected hands hang slack between their bodies, and Kiyoomi lays his other hand upon his thigh as he sits up straight and closes his eyes, bringing in breath just like Hinata taught him. Then, Kiyoomi imagines his worry and anxiety and a real, corporeal thing that he can blow straight out of himself with each and every breath he releases, pushing it far beyond his body and frantic brain until the static that was crackling loudly moments before dissipates into a barely-there hum. 

For a moment, the touch they share is only skin against skin, gentle and kind and exactly what Kiyoomi longed for when he had watched Bokkun hold his boyfriend’s hand at the Black Jackal’s formal function last weekend. The two men had looked so handsome in their suits, even if Bokkun’s was oddly garish, but even that seemed to work for Bokuto. There had been so much love in the simple gesture between Bokkun and his boyfriend, and jealousy had burned in Kiyoomi’s heart knowing that his brain would reject anything similar. _That_ is what he actually hated.

“...Omi…” Hinata says, not doing anything else other than patiently waiting for Kiyoomi to open his eyes.

Kiyoomi knows why Hinata says his name. The soundless timer, the one the two of them set up so only Hinata could see the bright red numbers on the display, has reached the end of its countdown. Kiyoomi takes in another breath, languidly, counting to ten, and releasing it just as slowly. The hands are still just skin on skin—warm and alive and connected to each other. Kiyoomi’s worries about touch and germs and all his other strange neuroses are muted and nearly silent. 

Kiyoomi wants to sob with relief, but instead he keeps his eyes closed and quietly says, “Five more minutes, Shouyou.”


End file.
